Circe frowned a delicate little curl, cocking her head to the side. There was something in Priya's tone of voice that gave Circe pause, an undesirable sense of friction. Nagging at her like a loose thread to be pulled, chipped paint to peel.
"Did you have a fight?" she asked. They could both be so hot-tempered, beneath all the ink staining their fingers. It occurred to her too late what it might mean, the fact that the two had barely seen each other. "Did Arjun do something foolish?" She leaned closer. "What did he do?"
Maybe he had tried to kiss her. Or maybe he was jealous, knowing that Circe wanted Priya as she would never want him. It didn't seem in character, she would have thought, but how rarely did she see him now? Maybe the weight of the crown had done funny things to his head in her absence.
"But what kind of potion would you make me?" she wondered. "Does it depend on the flower? What flowers would I need to bring you if I wanted you to brew me a love potion?" She knew very well that these were not the kinds of concoctions that Priya created, but she also knew how much the misapprehension would irritate the woman.
"Surely I've outsmarted you at least once," Circe protested. "You cannot be the prettiest and the cleverest. Maybe I only let you think you'd won."
"Did you have a fight?" she asked. They could both be so hot-tempered, beneath all the ink staining their fingers. It occurred to her too late what it might mean, the fact that the two had barely seen each other. "Did Arjun do something foolish?" She leaned closer. "What did he do?"
Maybe he had tried to kiss her. Or maybe he was jealous, knowing that Circe wanted Priya as she would never want him. It didn't seem in character, she would have thought, but how rarely did she see him now? Maybe the weight of the crown had done funny things to his head in her absence.
"But what kind of potion would you make me?" she wondered. "Does it depend on the flower? What flowers would I need to bring you if I wanted you to brew me a love potion?" She knew very well that these were not the kinds of concoctions that Priya created, but she also knew how much the misapprehension would irritate the woman.
"Surely I've outsmarted you at least once," Circe protested. "You cannot be the prettiest and the cleverest. Maybe I only let you think you'd won."
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